lumiere-dor

you can touch my sun-kissed shoulders and connect the dots of freckles on my back, run a finger up and down the knots of my spine while your lips hover by the corner of my mouth, plant your feet on either side of mine and feel my pulse race in my wrists against your fingertips. you can name my longings and repeat them softly back to me while tracing the length of my collarbones, thread my hair through your fingers and tug gently, feel the pleasant pressure of my body against yours, bow your head closer to my exposed neck just to feel me quiver, and kiss underneath my jaw. and you can lead me towards those feelings, dangle each one like

i just want the fingers of another on my naked skin and my joints popping as i stretch out before them in the morning sun with the innards of poems strewn across the sheets.

I was the most delicate flower in your garden, so you crushed my petals between your fingertips and colored your world beautiful.

you brush the hair from my shoulders and kiss my eyelashes, your silent fingers on my spine. the low whine of your hushes and your nails on my scalp. the nape of your neck smelling like heavy rain, the slope of your back trailing into sleepless nights and the feelings that grip at my esophagus. and the dance of veins winding, unwinding, making room for me in your hollow heart.

i'm tripping over my tongue just trying to tell you how much i love you.

and now i compare myself to yeats, ee cummings, and i want to be a tragic alcoholic like conor oberst, drink until my voice shakes when i sing, and i want to die young, die young, die young like kurt cobain, click my ruby heels together and disappear. then i realize how little i've accomplished so far, my half-baked, half-thought out poems that chip away bit by bit at myself, that never leave me whole, and how much i would have to achieve in so little time. and so i realign my future, watch the years drag on and on, and wonder why i would ever want for anything other than a husband and 2.5 kids, a family, a quaint house, life and love to cal

my lover with freckled wing bones, dear fledgling sparrow nesting between thick boughs of comfort. clip your wings, i was your need for flight, and now you are home. whistle love songs, whistle sonnets, watch me shiver though i'm warm. curl against my comfort, pick my bones dry, hide under my shade. you've been in the air so long and i've been grounded, watching you fall to earth, watching you fall to me. my heart swells and explodes with your honey bee whispers sweetly pollinating my ears. i'm so tender to the touch, i am sighing like a thousand new-born baby breaths. you're sifting your fingers through my hair like you were searching for g